


A Brother's Intervention

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Lil Bit of Sherlolly [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Divergence - A Scandal in Belgravia, F/M, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock and Feelings, Sherlock's not fooling Mycroft, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sort of AUish, Tumblr Prompt, a bit angsty, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: gcintia on tumblr said: Do you think that if Mycroft were at Christmas party he would know why Sherlock said those things to Molly and why he made his apologies? Can Someone please write a fic about he being in some kind situation like that, please?That Christmas party with a slightly different out come. Mycroft isn't really a rubbish big brother, just sort of.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CQCRASH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CQCRASH/gifts).



> Sorry about the angsty feels. I have no beta here, please excuse my mistakes. 
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

_Bloody Hell!_  Mycroft cursed inwardly, watching in awe as Sherlock verbally attacked Dr. Hooper in front of the small group of people. _Her breasts, Sherlock? At least_ pretend _to have some tact._

Mycroft knew _of_ the young doctor who assisted his brother at Barts from time to time, though they’d never met. He’d seen her file, she’d been vetted. She was a competent pathologist, well respected and well liked. On top of that she must have had the patience of Job Himself to put up with his little brother’s antics. 

 _Of course the gift was for you, you idiot! Look at her shoes, for God’s sake! Give me strength, he’s apologis… A kiss?! In front of people?!_ He cleared his throat causing Sherlock to turn sharply and make eye contact. Sherlock quickly strode away, looking decidedly uncomfortable. _Ah, his distraction was never about Adler. It’s this girl- well, even_ I _can see that she’s a woman in that dress._

He’d seen this kind of behaviour before from the younger man, but not since his adolescence. When he was younger, Sherlock would often attack at the first sign of rejection or rebuke. Thankfully he’d developed a slightly tougher skin as he’d matured, at least where _that_ was concerned. Cutting someone down for the sake of making a point was a trait that they _both_ shared, though Mycroft prided himself on the actual use of subtlety whereas his brother just went in for the kill. Sherlock rarely held his sharp tongue when provoked or on the defensive. But this was something else entirely. _This was a preemptive strike._

The tension in the room was oppressive, even for Mycroft. Tension he could handle, it was part of his job, but this… this was sentimental and personal. Simply not his cup of tea. Sherlock was pacing like a caged animal as John tried to get him to accept an offered drink. With a sigh Mycroft approached the pair, noting Dr. Hooper’s location across the room as she spoke with DI Lestrade and some woman whom he did not know, nor did he care to. 

“A moment, brother dear?” he said as he walked up. 

“Not now Mycroft,” Sherlock growled back.

“It’s rather important.” He looked at John then back to his brother. “About the case.”

With a defeated shrug, Sherlock started walking toward his bedroom and Mycroft followed. Once inside the younger man turned and said, “What?”

“That was a lovely show you put on out there. Mummy would be proud.”

“Sod off.”

“ _Language_ ,” Mycroft warned.

“Isn’t it bad enough that I’m forced to endure this… holiday gathering? I’m not in need of a scolding from you, of all people. Why are you even here?” 

“Mrs. Hudson’s fruit cake.” He motioned to the bed. “Sit.”

And he did, throwing Mycroft a petulant glare in the process.

After a moment the older man said, “It’s not an advantage, you know.” Sherlock remained silent. “All Hearts break in the end.” He was speaking from personal experience and he knew that his little brother was aware of this. 

“Too many people in my inner sanctum. This has nothing to do with _hearts_ ,” Sherlock spit back. 

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. “You may be able to get away with that when dealing with the simpletons of this world, but I am not one of them and you know it.” His hands in his pockets he crossed the room and looked out at the light snow fall. “I do understand though. She’s… different, isn’t she?”

Several minutes passed before Sherlock spoke again. “Yes. Special.”

As he turned he appraised the younger man. Sherlock suddenly looked a bit like a child sitting on the edge of his bed, knees drawn close to his chest, his face screwed up in a pout. Crossing back over to close the distance he said, “You didn’t mean to hurt her. She accepted your apology. All is well.” It was the best he could really offer, though he knew it wasn’t nearly enough. He was at the door, his hand poised to open it when Sherlock spoke again. 

“Can’t I, just this once have… something special?” His voice was low, defeated. 

Mycroft winced, thankful that his back was turned. “Perhaps some day, my dear brother. But not today,” he said before leaving the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Love a review ~Lil~


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